


You Can See Me

by flimflam99



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-30 23:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13962507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimflam99/pseuds/flimflam99
Summary: Sherlock has been saved from exile, thanks to an unknown entity.  But what happens when this unknown person threatens the one that Sherlock loves the most, Molly Hooper.Set after His Last Vow, not S4 compliant in any way!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChiefDoctor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiefDoctor/gifts).



> This Saturday will mark my first year writing Sherlolly stories (or any stories for that matter), so I've decided to write a longish story to celebrate. I'm not quite sure how many chapters it will be, probably 6 or 7. I have finished it but the other chapters just need tweaking a bit!
> 
> Gifted to ChiefDoctor who wrote the very first comment on my first fic. Thank you for being nice!
> 
> I thought my first fic would probably be the last and that I would either have no comments or horrible comments, so thanks to everyone who has commented or left Kudos for keeping the inspiration going!

The black car sped away from the air strip with John and Sherlock sat in the back and Mary sitting in the front passenger seat next to the driver. Sherlock was tiredly looking out of the window when his phone beeped and he took it out of his pocket to look at it. John heard the sharp intake of breath and glancing across saw Sherlock’s face go white.

“Sherlock?” John queried. Sherlock suddenly moved forward in his seat and spoke to the driver.

“Change of plan. We need to get to St. Bart’s Hospital. Quickly as possible please.” Sherlock sat back into his seat.

“What is it Sherlock?” Mary asked worriedly.

“I received this from an unknown number.”

Sherlock held his phone out so that both Mary and John could see it. There was a photo of Molly in the morgue at Bart’s. The date of the photo was that day. Sherlock brought the phone back, pressed a number and held it to his ear.

“Oh my God, he’s after Molly.” Mary looked horrified. John cleared his throat.

“Mycroft, please tell me you still have Molly under surveillance.” Sherlock’s voice rasped into his phone. Both John and Mary waited. Sherlock listened to Mycroft and then ended the call.

“Molly’s fine. Mycroft says he sent Anthea to her as soon as he saw the video of Moriarty.”

Mary let out a breath and John reached over to rub her shoulder. Mary placed her hand on top of his and held it.

“Molly must not know that she is the target”. Sherlock told them and glared furiously at Mary when she opened her mouth to object. “We will just say that no-one is safe until whoever is behind this is found.”

Both Mary and John reluctantly nodded.

\------------------------------------

Molly was sat in her office drinking tea with Anthea. Apart from saying that Mycroft had sent her to keep Molly safe until Sherlock got there, Anthea hadn’t said a word. She was too busy texting on her phone.

The door to the morgue banged open and Anthea was up in an instant to look through the little window at the top of the door to Molly’s office. She visibly breathed a sigh of relief and then she opened the door to let Sherlock, John and Mary in.

“Molly, are you ok?” John asked.

“I’m fine, John. What’s going on? Little Miss “Glued to Her Phone” hasn’t said a word.” Anthea looked up and glowered at Molly before going back to her phone.

“We think Moriarty is back.” John stated glumly.

“Don’t be ridiculous John”

“Moriarty is dead, John. Definitely dead, I did the autopsy”

Both Sherlock and Molly spoke at the same time. They both looked at one another for a second before Sherlock continued.

“I don’t know who it is but it is not Moriarty. That doesn’t mean that whoever it is isn’t just as dangerous as he was. Now, the important thing is to keep everyone safe. John, Mary, your house is already under the highest security as is Baker Street which is where Mycroft will meet us in a couple of hours to make plans, but first we need to go to Molly’s and get her stuff….”

“What? Why do we have to do that!” Molly cried incredulously. She saw Sherlock’s face harden and both John and Mary looked worried.

“To be safe, Molly.” Sherlock bit out. He took a deep breath.

“So what I’m going to stay with John and Mary?” That wouldn’t be too bad, Molly thought. I get on well with John and Mary had become a good friend.

“Don’t be silly, Molly.” drawled Sherlock. “They don’t have room to swing a cat. No, you’ll be staying with me.”

“Oh, no. No way.” Molly moved away towards the door. “Just leave me out of this, ok?”

Sherlock moved to stand in front of the door.

“I’m sorry, Molly but we don’t know what they are planning. Just to be on the safe side, hopefully it will only be for a couple of days.” Sherlock gave her his sad puppy look.

“Oh, I suppose so if I absolutely must. But only for a few days.” Molly answered. Sherlock rewarded her with a brilliant smile.

“Right, let’s get going, shall we?”

\---------------------------------

They arrived at Molly’s flat and after giving some instructions as to what she wanted to take with her, Sherlock and John began in the Sitting Room and Kitchen while Molly joined Mary in her bedroom and began to pack her clothes. It didn’t take long for Molly to notice that Mary was packing for far more than a few days.

“Mary, you’re packing far too much. I don’t need all that just for a few days.” Molly grumbled snatching a few things back. 

“Molly, it might be longer than that. Best be prepared.” Mary smiled reassuringly at her and turned to empty yet another drawer. Molly mentally shrugged her shoulders and went into the bathroom to pack her toiletries and other essentials.

She was just returning to the Sitting Room with one suitcase when she heard John talking to Sherlock.

“So why wasn’t Molly at the airstrip? Did you go and see her yesterday?” Both men had their back to Molly as they were packing what looked like her entire bookcase and DVD collection.

“No.” Sherlock answered flatly, picking up Molly’s toy elephant that her dad had given her, which sat on the top of her bookcase and throwing it in the box on top of her DVDs.

“No?” John sounded incredulous “You weren’t going to tell her that you were leaving the country for six months, possibly longer?”

Molly dropped her suitcase heavily on the floor, both men spun round to face her. John looked shocked but Sherlock had gone completely white. He pressed his lips together and then looked away. Molly stood there for a moment and then picked her suitcase back up and took it back into the bedroom. She was back seconds later and moved towards the box that John and Sherlock had been filling up. She picked up the toy elephant and put it back on top of the bookcase, then started picking up her DVDs from the box and putting them back.

“What are you doing?” Sherlock’s voice could cut glass but Molly ignored him and carried on putting the DVD’s away. Mary appeared in the doorway.

“Molly love, we need to get going.” She went other to the pathologist and put her arms around her. Molly shrugged her off.

“Bye then. Thanks for coming round” She replied dismissively.

“Molly” Sherlock growled warningly. Molly whirled round to face him, her anger only too evident to see.

“I’m not going with you. Why would I want to stay with someone who can’t even be bothered to tell me they’re going away for six months? Was I ever supposed to find out?” Molly turned back away from him, she was furious, absolutely incandescent with rage.

“Molly, I don’t have time for this” He turned back to Mary and John. “Mycroft’s sending another car for Molly’s stuff, do you mind waiting here for it to arrive?” Mary and John both shook their heads. “I’ll see you both back at Baker Street, don’t forget to pack Molly’s elephant.” 

He turned to Molly who was listening open-mouthed with disbelief. He held out his hand.

“Molly? Are you ready?” Molly shook her head and moved back a step from him. Sherlock sighed and then in one swift movement bent down and picked Molly up firemen style.

“Sherlock!” Mary gasped.

“Sherlock, put me down!” Molly whacked him on the shoulder but Sherlock took no notice and proceeded at quite a pace through her flat and out into the street. The door to the black car was open and Sherlock stuffed Molly in the car and got in himself before it shot off down the street.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two and Sherlock still can't get it right for getting it wrong........

Molly was silent in the car, her rage was so intense that if she had been a cartoon character, her face would have been red and steam would have been coming out of her ears. When they arrived at Baker Street, Sherlock had got out, pulled her out of the car and practically dragged her up the stairs into his flat. They were met by Mrs Hudson who was coming down the stairs from John’s old room.

“Molly, how nice to see you! I’ve made up John’s old room for you, it just needed a bit of a dust, after all he only moved out again last week.” Mrs Hudson’s attention went from Molly to Sherlock so she didn’t notice that Molly didn’t answer and that she had a face like thunder. “Sherlock, it’s good to have you back. So you’re not going away now?” 

Molly let out a snort and glared pointedly at Sherlock who refused to meet her gaze.

“No, I’m not Mrs Hudson and Molly will be staying with us for the foreseeable future.”

“Yes, Mycroft told me when he phoned. I’ll make us some tea, shall I?” Mrs Hudson went back downstairs to her flat to make the tea. The doorbell went and Mrs Hudson answered the door, it was Mary and John with Molly’s things. 

Sherlock went down to help John, and Mary came up and immediately went to Molly who was sat morosely on the sofa. She gave her a big hug. Once Sherlock and John had taken all of Molly’s things into her room, Mrs Hudson brought up the tea.

“Sherlock, when Mycroft told me you were going away, he said that you no longer needed the flat, is that true?” Mrs Hudson asked.

“I was going to be away for at least six months, hardly seemed fair to you.” Sherlock replied evasively. Mary’s eyes narrowed and she looked at Sherlock intently. Sherlock looked anywhere but at Mary.

“Yes, you were pretty vague about when you would be back and it’s funny but I distinctly remember overhearing a conversation between you and your brother at Christmas about going to Russia.” There was a long pause. “Sherlock?” Mary prompted. Sherlock didn’t answer he just stared at the floor. “You weren’t coming back were you? You said six months, the mission would be six months not that you would be back in six months.”

Sherlock breathed a deep sigh and then looked up at Mary and John and then briefly to Molly.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” He answered shortly.

Molly had heard the exchange and had realised what Mary was hinting at. He wouldn’t have survived the mission. She suddenly felt sick and the air oppressive. She stood up suddenly, all eyes turned to her as she moved towards the door.

“I’m going to my room” she muttered. Sherlock stood up and moved towards her.

“Not yet, Molly, we need to make plans”

“Well, I don’t need to know them, do I? The prisoner isn’t supposed to know the plans.” Molly said bitterly. She vaguely heard the sharp intake of breath from Mrs Hudson and scarcely noticed the look that passed between Mary and John.

“You’re not a prisoner, Molly. You’re my friend” The earnest look on Sherlock’s face was almost her undoing, almost but not quite.

“No, Sherlock. I am obviously not your friend. A friend would tell you when they are leaving to take on a suicide mission. You’re friends with John and Mary and Mrs Hudson so you told them but you didn’t tell me, did you?” Molly took a deep breath. “It seems I’m way down on the list of who matters most now.” She looked pointedly at Sherlock, tears streaming down her face and then she stormed up the stairs to her room.

\------------------------------------

Molly tried to ignore the gentle tapping on her door but when she heard Mary’s voice gently asking if she could come in she sighed and got off the bed to unlock the door.

“Are you OK, love?” Mary asked gently. Molly shook her head and when Mary put her arms around her, Molly put her head on her shoulder and cried.

“Please Molly, don’t cry.” Mary whispered. “Don’t waste your tears on Sherlock bloody Holmes”. Molly couldn’t help but laugh and after moving away from Mary, she sat on the edge of her bed with Mary dragging the small armchair nearer to the bed.

“If you only knew, how many times I’ve cried over him, Mary. I thought he trusted me at least, that I mattered as a friend. The problem with Sherlock Holmes is that when he wants something from you then you are the most important person in the world but when he doesn’t you’re just an annoying insect buzzing in his ear.” Molly wiped her eyes. “But I never thought he would leave and not say goodbye, that I mattered so little to him that he couldn’t be bothered to even pick up the phone.”

\---------------------------------

It was sometime later that Mary came down the stairs. Sherlock and John looked up at her, John looked concerned but Sherlock, well Sherlock looked ashamed. Mary walked up to him and pushed her face into his.

“I don’t know what you think you are doing to that girl, Sherlock, but you had better sort it or I will be having another shot at you and this time I won’t be so careful in my aim.” She turned to John. “Come on John, let’s go home.” John nodded to Sherlock but Sherlock was already in his mind palace where the vision of Molly seemed to haunt it.

\---------------------------------------  
Sherlock had ordered takeaway fish and chips and was now bracing himself to go upstairs and try and get Molly to come down and have something to eat. Molly had stayed upstairs for the rest of the afternoon and as far as Sherlock was aware hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Sherlock ran lightly up the stairs and knocked on Molly’s door.

“Molly, I’ve got us some fish and chips. Will you come down and have some?” Sherlock waited for some rebuttal and was somewhat surprised when he heard the key turn in the door and then the door opened. Molly hesitantly stepped out. She had changed from her work clothes and was wearing a stripy jumper and jeans. Sherlock smiled at her and Molly gave him a small smile before walking passed him, down the stairs.

They ate their fish and chips in silence. Sherlock didn’t really know what to say and was puzzling over why the sight of Molly in her jeans seemed to be so fascinating to him and Molly was just not talking to him. Sherlock had asked if her food was ok and had just got a shrug in response so he had given up.

Molly then went upstairs and came back down a few minutes later to ask, rather frostily, if it was ok if she had a bath. Sherlock replied that was fine, she didn’t need to ask and then showed her how to use the controls on the central heating if she felt cold. Molly disappeared into the bathroom for what seemed to be the longest bath time ever and when she came out, Sherlock was glad he had his laptop to hide behind as Molly was wearing the tiniest towel which only just covered her bum and showed off only too well her shapely legs. Sherlock kept his eyes firmly on his laptop as she made her way upstairs, God he hoped that he solved this case soon.

\------------------------------------

Sherlock was woken the next day by an extremely irate pathologist who just burst into his room without so much as by your leave.

“Sherlock, how bloody dare you?” Molly shouted at him, shaking him roughly by the shoulder.

“Molly? What on earth’s the matter?” Sherlock struggled to sit up and was rewarded for his efforts by Molly’s mouth dropping open as she surveyed his naked chest. Sherlock smirked a little and let the sheet slip down a bit further. Molly’s face, already red with rage, deepened further as she seemed to forcibly snap her eyes back to his face.

“Mike’s just phoned me to say not to worry about needing time off work. How dare you decide that for me!” Molly paced to the end of his bed and then hastily turned round as Sherlock slid out of bed, grabbing his dressing gown from the chair next to his bed.

“Molly, please calm down, it’s not going to do your blood pressure any good. As I am sure you are well aware you cannot possibly be kept safe in so public a place as Bart’s. You have lots of leave stored up so I don’t see what the problem is.” Sherlock stared down at his tiny pathologist, who glared back up at him. She let out a deep breath and her shoulders slumped.

“No, I don’t suppose you do, Sherlock.” Molly said sadly. She turned from him and walked out the door. She went into the Kitchen where she grabbed a slice of bread before heading back towards the stairs. Sherlock frowned.

“Where are you going?” Molly turned round and Sherlock could see how upset she was by the stoniness of her face.

“I’m going back to bed, see you later Sherlock.” She ran up the stairs and slammed the door shut. Sherlock winced.

\----------------------------------------------

“Surely you’re not surprised, Sherlock?” Mrs Hudson set down the afternoon tea she had brought Sherlock on the table. “Poor thing, being forced out of her own home, John told me what you did, Sherlock, how could you? And now she can’t go to work. It seems to me she was right, you are treating her like a prisoner. Shut in here with only you for company, the poor girl must be going insane.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was three days since Molly had taken up residence in Sherlock’s flat. In those three days, Sherlock had hardly seen Molly. She kept to her room and only came down to fix herself something to eat or drink or to use the bathroom. Sherlock had repeatedly told her that she could go wherever she wanted in the flat but she had just stared at him coldly and then gone back to her room. 

“Why don’t you take her out somewhere? It’s unfair on her, you go out all the time. You’re her friend, Sherlock not her jailer.” Mrs Hudson complained.

“I am concerned for her safety, Mrs Hudson. Also I’ve only been out twice with Lestrade trying to sort out who is behind this Moriarty reappearance. Once that is solved, Molly can go home and come and go as she pleases.”

Mrs Hudson opened her mouth to reply but Sherlock’s phone beeping stopped her. Sherlock looked at his phone and then went to his room to grab his jacket and coat.

“I’ve got to go out, Lestrade has found something. Can you talk to her Mrs Hudson, maybe persuade her to come down and watch TV or a DVD or something. God knows what she is up to up there and she can’t bear to be in the same room as me.” Sherlock smiled thinly and then ran down the stairs and out the door.

\------------------------------------------

The quiet knock at the door surprised Molly. Sherlock had taken to banging on the door and shouting through it, she was half expecting him to pick the lock.

“What do you want Sherlock?” Molly asked.

“It’s Mrs Hudson, dear. May I come in?” Molly opened the door and Mrs Hudson’s smiling face appeared.

“Are you ok, love? Is there anything you need?” Molly shook her head and Mrs Hudson sat down on the edge of her bed. Molly was sat in her chair by the window, Mrs Hudson was surprised to see that she was sketching on a large notepad.

“Are you drawing something? May I see?” 

Molly nodded reluctantly and turned the page so that Mrs Hudson could see. The drawing was of Sherlock. He was sat in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin, deep in thought in front of a roaring fire.

“Oh that’s so nice, Molly. Has Sherlock seen it?”

“No. Please don’t tell him about it.” Molly croaked. Her voice was harsh through underuse.

“Of course I won’t dear. Now forgive me for being nosy but I couldn’t help but notice that you have ‘While you were sleeping’ on DVD. I love that film but I lost my copy. Why don’t we go downstairs and watch it together. I can make us a nice cup of tea and I’ve made some almond and honey biscuits. Sherlock’s gone out so it will be just the two of us.” 

Molly put down her notepad.

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Molly stood up and the two friends went downstairs.

\-------------------------------------------

Sherlock got back to Baker Street at nearly midnight after another dead end on the Moriarty case. He felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to play his violin for a bit to wind down and then go to bed. 

He entered his flat to find the TV still on with some reality show on. A half empty bottle of wine stood on the table along with the remains of Mrs Hudson’s famous honey and almond biscuits. Sherlock walked over to the table to help himself to one, and that was when he heard the soft snore of a fast asleep Molly Hooper.

She was lying on the sofa, a blanket tucked round her, her hand cradling her cheek and her nose buried in the pillow. Sherlock stopped dead, his hand holding a biscuit half raised to his mouth. He studied her as she slept, her face looked serene and devoid of the worry and stress of the last few days. Sherlock’s breath hitched. She really was so very beautiful. Her hair was loose and cascaded over her shoulders and Sherlock gently moved an errant strand that was resting over her cheek. He ran his finger over her cheekbone and Molly stirred in her sleep. Sherlock quickly snatched his hand back. Molly didn’t wake and Sherlock crept out of the room and into his bedroom.

\-----------------------------------

Molly was woken by the sound of a violin playing. It was a soulful sound that filled Molly inexplicably with sadness. She rose from the sofa, pulling away the blanket that Mrs Hudson must have put round her and followed the sound. Of course she realised that it must be Sherlock playing. His bedroom door was slightly ajar so she quietly nudged it open a little further. Sherlock was standing by the window, his face solemn but breathtakingly beautiful lit by the glow of the single lamp he had turned on. 

Molly smiled sadly to herself and turned to leave.

“Don’t go, Molly.” Molly froze at the sound of his voice and then turned towards him. “Was there something you wanted?” Sherlock looked expectantly at her.

“N-no. I’m sorry I disturbed you, I didn’t mean to put you off.” Molly stammered, blushing.

“That’s quite alright. Stay if you want” and Sherlock gestured to the armchair in the corner and then continued playing.

Molly sat on the edge of the chair, drawn in by the music and the soulful, sad tune he was playing. It made Molly feel sad and when a single tear dropped down her face, the music abruptly stopped.

“Molly? What’s wrong?” Sherlock sounded almost anxious. Molly hastily wiped her face and before she could change her mind she stood up and walked over to him.

“Sherlock, can we go back to being friends? I’m sorry, I know that you’re trying to protect me and well…. I’ve missed our friendship.” Molly bravely looked up at him and for a moment Sherlock regarded her solemnly and her heart sank. But then he smiled, a rare genuine smile and Molly instantly felt so much better.

“Molly, we’ll always be friends. Please, you don’t have anything to be sorry for, I should be the one apologising.” Sherlock bent his head and before Molly could stop herself she reached up and kissed his cheek. Sherlock’s arm came around her waist and he hugged her to him.

“Tomorrow shall we go out? I’ll text Mycroft, get him to send a car and we can go somewhere, only if you want to though?” Sherlock asked tentatively.

“I’d like that” Molly smiled and let out a little laugh. Sherlock smiled too and then released her.

“Goodnight Sherlock” Molly moved towards the door.

“Goodnight Molly, sleep well” Sherlock answered. Molly turned to him and smiled before going out the door.

\-------------------------------------

Molly couldn’t help it. She was laughing so much that her stomach hurt and she couldn’t catch her breath. Who would have thought, this time yesterday, that she would be standing on Primrose Hill with Sherlock Holmes, flying a kite. Or in Molly’s case trying to fly it but not succeeding. Her last attempt had nearly hit Sherlock on the head, which is why she was crying her eyes out with laughter as it was just so funny. It was almost funny enough to make her forget the multitude of Mycroft’s minions that seemed to dog their every move. It was no coincidence that Sherlock and herself were the only ones on the hill at this particular moment.

Molly handed over the kite strings to Sherlock who was actually wiping his eyes he had laughed so much too. Their hands touched as Sherlock took the strings and he actually held her hands in his for a moment, gazing down at her with such tenderness that Molly’s breath caught. He then let her go and stepped away, winding the strings back up before casually handing the kite to a nearby agent. He caught Molly’s hand in his and tugged her with him as he strolled back down the hill.

“Shall we have dinner at Angelo’s?” Sherlock asked, his eyes still creased with amusement. Molly grinned with delight.

“That’s sounds like a plan, Mr Holmes. I’m starving.” She answered playfully. Sherlock squeezed her hand and noticing that she was having trouble keeping up with his long stride, he slowed down a little.

“So Sherlock, when was the last time you flew a kite?” 

Sherlock thought. “I was seven. Dad took me up the hill at the back of the cottage. I had a fantastic time, but what about you, Molly? You never went kite flying?”

Molly shook her head. “No, that’s why I’m rubbish at it. When we had a holiday Dad and I would go to the seaside for the day and I would go in the sea or play on the sand while Dad fell asleep or read a book. Sometimes we would play a ball game.”

“What happened to your mum, Molly?” Sherlock instantly wished he hadn’t asked as Molly’s face fell.

“She died when I was three. Car accident. I can’t really remember her and what I do remember I don’t know if they are my actual memories or what people have described to me over the years. Does that make sense?” Sherlock nodded his head. His thumb stroked the back of her hand.

Molly suddenly pulled her hand away and grinning at him, lightly pushed him. She started to run down the hill, calling back to him.

“Last one down, pays for the meal!” and she scampered away laughing.

Sherlock ran after her, more jogging really as he had every intention of letting her win.

\--------------------------------------

It was during their meal at Angelo’s, where Molly was just finishing her dessert, Sherlock having declined a pudding, that Sherlock’s phone rang. He picked it up and instantly he was on high alert, looking out of the window. He signalled to Angelo who came at once.

“Ok, we’ll see you there, Mycroft. Yes we’re on our way.” He put the phone down, turning to Angelo.

“Can we go out the back, Angelo? There’s about to be a spot of bother round the front.”

“Yes of course.” Angelo indicated the Kitchen and Sherlock got up.

“Molly, we need to go. Now!” He added firmly as Molly was trying to finish her dessert. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up from the chair, holding her hand tightly he pulled her in front of him as they went through the Kitchen.

“There should be a black car outside Angelo.” Angelo looked out of the window and nodded. Sherlock opened the door to the street at the back of Angelo’s and quickly ran to the car, still holding tightly to Molly’s hand, pushing her inside first and then clambering in after her. The car took off at high speed.

“What’s going on?” Molly whimpered.

“We were about to be ambushed.” Sherlock replied. He straightened up, helping Molly to sit up before unconsciously putting his hand around her waist and tucking her in to his side. Molly snuggled into his chest, her heart hammering as fast as his seemed to be.

“Where are we going?” 

“I don’t know really but we’re meeting up with Mycroft.” Sherlock looked out the back of the window and seemed satisfied all was ok as he then turned back to look at his phone.

“What about Mrs Hudson and John and Mary? Are they ok?” Molly questioned him, she felt like putting her hand over his phone to get his attention.

“They’re fine Molly. Mycroft is arranging for Mrs Hudson to stay with her sister as a precaution and Mary and John are ok where they are.” Sherlock put his phone away and turned to stare out the window. Molly pulled away from him, although Sherlock seemed somewhat reluctant to let her go and she too turned to look out of the car window.

They arrived at an air strip, where there was a helicopter waiting, next to which stood Mycroft. Sherlock and Molly got out of the car and walked over to him.

“Sherlock. Miss Hooper” Mycroft acknowledged them both. 

“We aren’t going in that are we?” Molly pointed to the helicopter. Sherlock put his hand under her elbow but she pulled away from him. She could feel panic building inside her, she disliked flying and the thought of going in that tiny, flimsy helicopter made her feel sick. “No! No way am I getting in that!” She dug her heels in.

“Molly, stop being so childish and get in the bloody helicopter.” Sherlock snapped. Mycroft raised his eyebrows at him and then turned with a small smile to Molly.

“Miss Hooper, why don’t we go inside the office and have a cup of tea? No need to worry about the helicopter for the moment”

“Do we have time for this?” Sherlock complained. Mycroft was already moving into the little office where a minion was making tea. 

“Oh yes, twenty minutes should do it.” Mycroft replied mysteriously.

They settled themselves in the little office with Sherlock sitting on the desk and Molly and Mycroft taking the two desk chairs. 

“I thought the cabin, hopefully it should only be for a day or so until everything is sorted.” Mycroft dunked a biscuit in his tea. Molly merely sipped her tea, she didn’t want a biscuit and Sherlock didn’t have anything.

“Good plan. It’s safe and secure, even if it’s on the small side.” Sherlock rattled on discussing the case, his voice getting fainter as Molly felt herself starting to drift off to sleep. She snapped her eyes open, she felt incredibly woozy.

“Sherlock! I don’t feel too good…….” Molly muttered, she felt Sherlock’s arms around her, stopping her from falling off the chair.

“Mycroft, is this what you meant by twenty minutes?” That was the last Molly heard as cradled against Sherlock she closed her eyes and let the darkness enfold her.

\------------------------------

Sherlock was fuming. Mycroft had drugged Molly just to get her on the helicopter. He sat behind the pilot, Molly was well strapped in next to him but he still had his arm around her and cradled her head to his chest. Molly would be out for several hours and it would be a couple of hours before they could get off the helicopter and a further half an hour before Sherlock would get them to the cabin. He hadn’t realised that Molly didn’t like flying, but Mycroft must have known.

Sherlock glanced down at Molly, her face was serene and Sherlock suddenly knew that he felt more for Molly than he was letting himself believe. He had to keep her safe, no matter what. In this case the game definitely was not on, the only thing he was concerned about was Molly. He kissed the top of her head, smoothing her hair away from her face and then turned to look at the fantastic view below him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Mycroft is not being good now, but at least Molly has forgiven Sherlock and they've had a day out at the park!
> 
> The kite flying incident happened to me a long time ago and I nearly knocked the chap I was with out! But is was so very funny, I thought I would choke I laughed so much.


	4. Chapter 4

Molly was vaguely aware of being picked up, yet again, and being deposited on something much more comfortable then what she had been sleeping on. She felt something warm and heavy covering her and then she went back to sleep………..

She woke because she was cold, in fact so cold that she was shivering. She turned her head slightly and opened her eyes to the sight of Sherlock, cursing under his breath, trying to nurse the small fire he had managed to start in the grate. After a while it seemed to take hold.

“Cold…” Molly muttered as she sat up and shivered again. Sherlock’s coat was wrapped round her but Sherlock immediately jumped up and picked up a blanket to place over her.

“I’m so sorry, Molly. I didn’t know that Mycroft had drugged your tea. I’ve got the fire going, it should warm up soon.” He hesitated for a moment before dropping next to her on the sofa and throwing his arm around her shoulders, he pressed her against him. Molly, still tired after being drugged, put her head against his chest and, once more starting to feel warm, fell back to sleep.

\------------------------------------

The next time she awoke she was still pleasantly warm and snug but there was no sign of Sherlock. Molly sighed as she moved out from under her nest of blankets. She shouldn’t really be surprised, Sherlock had got her here safely and now he’d gone to track down the elusive fake Moriarty. A small tear still escaped though as Molly realised she was on her own and already missed Sherlock, even if he was a self-righteous idiot. As for Mycroft, well the next time she saw him he would get a cuff round the head.

She jumped a mile when the door suddenly opened and Sherlock appeared in the doorway holding a large pile of logs.

“Sherlock!” Sherlock looked up at the urgency in her tone and frowned as he saw the single tear drop on Molly’s cheek.

“Are you ok, Molly?” He dropped the logs by the fire and moved towards her, his gaze intense and Molly found herself unable to break her gaze from his.

“I-I’m fine, well apart from being seriously annoyed at being drugged by your brother. I thought you’d already gone. You’ll have to show me where the log pile is.” She smiled brightly, over brightly.

“Gone? I’m not going anywhere, Molly.” Sherlock gave a funny little confused smile. “Why would you think that?”

“I thought you’d have to go back to help Mycroft and Greg.” Molly replied. She sat back on the sofa. Sherlock moved so that he was standing just in front of her.

“I need to be here, next to you.” Actions speaking louder that words, Sherlock plonked himself next to Molly on the sofa.

“I don’t understand” Molly moved a little so that she could face Sherlock more. “Aren’t you needed back in London, to find whoever is behind all this?” Sherlock glanced at her and then quickly looked away again.

“I can do what I need to do here.” Then he frowned at Molly. “Did you really think I would leave you here alone, in the middle of nowhere?”

Molly shrugged and then got up and wandered into the Kitchen. She was starving and incredibly thirsty, even though she could vaguely remember Sherlock waking her up at some point to drink some water. She quickly found the kettle and put it on the stove. As she waited for the kettle to boil she looked around at her surroundings. Sherlock had taken her to, what looked like from the inside, a log cabin and basically it was just two rooms. There was a little kitchenette with a woodburning stove which was partitioned off from the main Living Room at the other end of which was a raised area which contained a large double bed. Molly wandered over to the only other room, the bathroom which was a basic toilet, sink and bath/shower. She looked at the other occupant sat on the sofa who was staring at the fire, deep into his own thoughts. If Sherlock was staying then that would mean they would be living more on top of one other than when they were at Baker Street. At least there Molly had her own room.

Molly jumped as the kettle began to whistle and she made her way back to the kitchenette to make tea. She opened the fridge/freezer to find it well stocked and she put some bacon on to cook and then made tea for herself and a coffee for Sherlock.

She placed Sherlock’s coffee in front of him and when the bacon was ready she quickly made a round of sandwiches for them both. Sherlock roused up from his thoughts, and after thanking her for the food, began to eat.

“Have you been here before?” Sherlock raised his eyebrows at her question. “Only Mycroft just said the cabin when we were at the airstrip and you knew what he was talking about.”

Sherlock nodded.

“I was here for a few weeks when I was rounding up Moriarty’s network. I needed somewhere to lay low for a while and this was the best place. Only difference being it was the summer so it wasn’t anywhere near as cold as it is now”

“So, are you going to show me round?” Molly asked. Sherlock looked confused, he pointedly looked round the room as if to say ‘this is it’ and raised his eyebrows. Molly giggled.

“I meant outside.” Molly stood up and walked to the window, moving aside the heavy curtain to look outside. “Oh my!” She exclaimed. “It’s been snowing quite a bit.”

The world outside was white. Thick snow lay on the ground and Molly couldn’t wait to go outside in it. Snow for her was mythical. It rarely snowed in London and when it did it was wet, slushy stuff, whereas this was soft and powdery. 

“I’m going to have a quick wash, then I might go for a walk.” Molly excitedly made her way to the bathroom but was stopped by Sherlock grabbing her wrist.

“Molly” He said quietly. Molly’s face fell, she knew what he was going to say. Sherlock’s hand tightened on her wrist as he stared at her sad face, he blinked rapidly. “Oh what the hell. I was going to say you shouldn’t leave the cabin but as long as you don’t mind me tagging along, I guess it will be ok.”

Molly smiled. “That sounds ok to me. But um.. do I have any change of clothes?” She realised that all she had with her were the clothes she was wearing.

“Oh yes, sorry. In the red case. Anthea picked out some clothes and things for you, they should fit.” 

Molly went and rummaged through the case, pulling out some blue jeans, blue shirt and a thick navy blue jumper with a tabby cat on it. She pulled out some underwear too and then she went into the Bathroom.

\------------------------------------

It was several hours later and Molly and Sherlock were trudging back to the cabin. They had been for a long walk, the cabin was situated in a small clearing in a large wood. There was only one way to get to it, along a dirt track that Sherlock had driven them down in a borrowed Range Rover. They had walked through the wood down to a small lake, stopped to watch some birds and an occasional deer and then strolled back again. Sherlock was ahead of Molly when she decided to play a game. She bent down and picked up some of the soft snow, she took aim…. and fired. The snowball hit Sherlock in the centre of his back. He turned around with a yelp. Molly laughed.

“You little…..” Sherlock exclaimed. He knelt in the snow to make his own snowball. He took aim at Molly but she dodged it and threw another at Sherlock. They continued for a while, their laughter growing until Sherlock slipped in the snow and fell flat on his back. 

“Are you ok?” Molly called out, she moved over to him and bent over holding her hand out to help him up. Sherlock took her hand but pulled her down on top of him. Molly squealed as she fell on him and he rolled them over so that he had her pinned down in the snow.

“I win!” Sherlock chuckled. Molly giggled but froze as Sherlock’s gaze suddenly became intense and he moved closer to her. One of Molly’s hands was still being held by one of his and the other seemed to, of its own free will, reach up and caress Sherlock’s face. Molly marvelled at the feel of his skin against hers. Sherlock’s gaze flicked down to her mouth and she knew he was going to kiss her, his face inched closer to her and Molly’s hand moved to the back of his neck to press him closer still. She bridged the miniscule gap between them and pressed her lips gently but firmly against his.

Sherlock’s whole body seemed to stiffen with shock. Mortified, Molly pushed him away and as Sherlock sat back on his heels, Molly pulled herself away from him and up off the ground in one fluid movement. She fled in the direction of the cabin but veered away at the last moment not wanting to be in such a small confined space with Sherlock.

“Molly!” She could hear Sherlock quite close behind her.

“Leave me alone” Molly cried back, she knew he could outrun her and equally knew she would be easy enough to find with her footprints clear as daylight in the snow but she just could not face him.  
‘I just tried to kiss Sherlock’. Molly sat down in the snow at the base of a tree. She was out of breath, cold and her heart seemed to be colder still. ‘Why oh why did I kiss Sherlock’ She moaned in her head.

“Molly?” Molly knew he wouldn’t be far behind. She stared at his shoes and then at his hands as he plunked himself next to her. 

“I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to kiss me you were so close. In fact, no I’m not sorry, why should I be the one in the wrong? What were you thinking of Sherlock? You know how I feel about you, so what were you doing?” Molly’s hands tightened into fists and Sherlock reached over and covered them with one of his. He stroked the back of her hand and cleared his throat.

“I did want to kiss you, do want to kiss you. I was just…. overwhelmed with it all.”

“Funnily enough I found it underwhelming to kiss someone who jumps away like a scalded cat.” Molly snapped, freeing her hands from his. She stood up.

“I’m going back to the cabin and having a long soak in the bath. Don’t even think about interrupting me for anything unless it is likely to cause imminent death.” Molly stomped off.

Sherlock sat with his back against the tree for a while longer, wondering how on earth he had gone from wanting to kiss Molly, to almost kissing Molly, to now being persona non-grata again. He relived those few seconds as Molly’s lips met his, the tingling sensation he had felt which was unexpected and made him draw away. Trouble was he rather liked that tingling sensation…….


	5. Chapter 5

Molly’s bathing time took well over an hour. By the time she got out she was starving and wasn’t looking forward to having to prepare dinner for herself and Sherlock, if he was inclined to eat. She was therefore unprepared to open the door and find the man himself at the stove, stirring something. She approached him cautiously and peered into the pot.

“What is it?” She frowned up at him, Sherlock frowned back.

“It’s stew.” 

“It’s not rabbit, is it? I couldn’t eat a bunny, Sherlock.”

“Don’t be absurd, it’s beef stew.”

He dished out two generous spoonfuls of the stew each and placed them on the table which was already laid, with bread and a glass of wine each.

Molly ate heartily but was conscious of Sherlock watching her. She deliberately avoided looking at him until she had finished. She picked up the plates, noting that Sherlock hadn’t eaten all of his and then washed up. Sherlock picked up the tea towel and proceeded to dry the dishes much to Molly’s amazement. Cooking and clearing up afterwards, wonders will never cease!

“Molly” Sherlock suddenly was standing right in front of her, his bright blue eyes piercing into what felt like her soul. 

“What?” Molly breathed. Her back against the sink, she had nowhere to go. Sherlock raised his hand and touched her cheek, stroking it with his thumb, his gaze almost curious. Molly swallowed. Sherlock bent his head lower, his gaze now firmly on her mouth. He was almost touching her when Molly panicked and pushed him away. She moved away from the sink creating more space for herself.

“Don’t do that.” Molly muttered.

“But I want to kiss you Molly” Sherlock sounded confused. 

“I think you’re confusing me with someone else, I’m the one that doesn’t matter remember? The one that you don’t need to tell that you’re going away to your death.” Tears streamed down Molly’s face and Sherlock realised that she was still hurting because he hadn’t told her.

He drew in a deep breath, turning away and then back again, running his fingers agitatedly through his hair.

“I couldn’t tell you, I tried but I just couldn’t. Because you see me Molly, you would have known that something was wrong and I ….” Sherlock stopped and turned away again, the fingers that ran through his hair were trembling. “I wouldn’t have wanted to go which would have made it worse because I would have been forced to. Can you imagine that Molly? It would have broken me to say goodbye to you and I’m just not strong enough to do that. I can’t say goodbye to you, you’re my hope, my home.” 

Molly was crying even more than before listening to him, his voice catching. She pulled at his arm and he turned to her, his face tear streaked as well. She moved into him, her hands sliding around his waist and he put his arms round her and held her so, so tight. She felt him picking her up and then she was sat on his lap on the sofa and he was kissing her and she was kissing him back. Their kisses grew more passionate and the sofa was rather too small for their needs, so Sherlock picked her up and carried her up to the bed.

\--------------------------------------

It was later, much later when Sherlock woke. It was early evening and the sky was dark. Molly lay cuddled into his side, her head on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest. She was still sleeping soundly. Sherlock gently disentangled himself and went into the bathroom for a quick wash. 

Molly was awake when he got back, she had moved over to her side of the bed and Sherlock could sense she was unsure about him, whether he would turn away from her. He got back into bed and opened his arms and with a big smile Molly snuggled back into him, resting her head on his chest. Sherlock kissed the top of her head.

“I love you, Molly.” He whispered, Molly glanced up at him and he nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “It’s true, I love you.”

Molly didn’t reply but she just put her head back onto his chest. Maybe it was too soon for her, Sherlock reasoned, to say those precious words back to him.

\-------------------------------------

Five days later and Sherlock received an all clear from Mycroft that the threat on Baker Street had been eliminated for now, although they had not managed to apprehend the main man. Sherlock and Molly made their way back to Baker Street, although for Molly it was a bittersweet experience as she had had the most incredible five days in that little cabin, as Sherlock seemed determined to acknowledge his love for her in every way possible.

Sherlock had managed to cajole Molly into getting into a small airplane and Molly found that it was not nearly as frightening as she had expected, although that was mainly due to Sherlock who held her hand as they ascended and was kissing her frantically as they descended.

So now Molly was back at Baker Street, she was sat in John’s old chair reading a book while Sherlock lay on the sofa in his mind palace. He had seen Mycroft earlier and they had a long discussion about what was going on, he had a lot to process so Molly kept quiet and let him be. 

Molly yawned and found that she was reading the same sentence over and over so she decided to go to bed. She put down her book and went over to Sherlock and kissed his forehead gently before going onto the landing to make her way up the stairs to her room.

“Where are you going?” Sherlock’s voice was unexpected and made Molly jump.

“I’m going to bed.” She explained, going back over to Sherlock who had sat up on the sofa and was watching her. He frowned.

“Well if you want to sleep upstairs we can, but I would rather we slept in my room, it is more convenient and frankly the bed is far more comfortable.” Sherlock gestured to his room.

“Y-you want me to sleep in your bed?” Molly’s eyes went wide. Sherlock looked puzzled.

“Yes? Is that so surprising? I thought that was what couples did?” He stood up, rubbing the back of his head in a manner Molly knew only too well that he did when he was unsure of something.

“So we’re a couple?” Molly clarified. “Officially as well?”

Sherlock hesitated and then went over to the mantelpiece where he picked up his skull, underneath which was a small box.

“It’s too early, I know, but Molly I love you with all my heart and I want to always be there for you and eventually I would be honoured if you would be my wife and wear this ring as a token of my affection.”

“Yes. Yes of course I will………. Hang on though. Are you asking me now?” They stared at one another and then a slow smile spread across Sherlock’s face. He reached over and caressed her face before dropping to one knee and opening the box.

“Will you marry me, Molly?” Molly didn’t waste any time and she flung her arms round his neck, kissing him breathless.

It was later, much later when they were lying side by side in the dark when Molly had a thought.

“How do you know what the bed upstairs is like?” There was a split second of silence and then they both broke into peals of laughter.

\------------------------------------

It was the next day and Sherlock had invited the Watsons over primarily to inform them about the goings on in the case but also to announce the engagement.

Once the happy couple had told their news there was stunned silence from John but a knowing smile from Mary. Then there were hugs and tears and explanations. Molly and Mary then rushed downstairs to tell Mrs Hudson who had just got back from visiting her sister. 

It was only as Molly got down there that she realised she had forgotten her phone, so she went back up to retrieve it. It was then that she overheard Sherlock and John talking in the Kitchen.

“Well of course it isn’t real, I don’t love Molly, it’s all part of the case. Do be sensible John. No, when it’s over I’ll let her down gently, but keep her sweet so that I can still have access to the morgue. I mean how could I possibly love her!!” Sherlock was at his most derisive and Molly went cold.

She grabbed her bag and ran down the stairs and was outside and running down the street before she knew what she was doing. A taxi pulled in front of her and she got in. She gave her address and then slumped into the back seat still too numb for tears.

Once we got back to her flat, she fumbled for the key and then went inside. She hadn’t been inside very long when she realised there was something very odd about her flat. She went into her bedroom and stopped dead. There lying on her bed was her wedding dress that she was going to marry Tom in. The dress that she had sold to a charity shop. 

Molly suddenly felt sick and she turned to leave the room when she heard the front door of her flat opening. She looked around wildly and then a thought came into her head, a conversation that she’d had with Sherlock when he stayed with her after his fall. She could remember her exact words as he asked what she would do if she had to hide away somewhere in her flat.

“That’s easy, Sherlock. The wardrobe. It’s like Narnia in there, it’s so huge.” The wardrobe which used to be her mum and dad’s pride and joy. It was massive and Molly had inherited it. She stepped towards it, taking her bag with her and just as the door to the flat opened, she pushed her way in amongst her clothes and hid at the back.

“Molly! Molly, my sweet, I know you’re in here” It was Tom, any hope that it wasn’t was quickly fading. Why did she always choose the mad ones? “I’m glad you’ve come back darling, we’ve got a wedding to go to” Molly held her breath as he got closer to the wardrobe. She heard him opening cupboards and knew it was just a matter of time before he found her. She began to regret getting into the wardrobe.

Suddenly there was a great big bang and then there was lots of shouting and loud noises. Molly crouched down at the back of the wardrobe and as the door of the wardrobe slowly opened she sprang out, intending to knock Tom over and make her escape. Unfortunately, Molly got her foot caught as she left and she fell forwards onto the floor, knocking herself out.

\------------------------------------

When she awoke she was in hospital. John was seated by her side but he was sound asleep, there was no sign of Sherlock. Probably now the case had been solved, the baddie captured, he had lost interest in her. Molly experimentally moved all her limbs and then she softly got out of bed so that she didn’t disturb John. On the nightstand stood a gift bag with her name on it. She didn’t look inside it but took off her engagement ring and dropped it inside. She grabbed her clothes and things andleft the room. She got dressed in a nearby toilet and then quickly left the hospital. Making sure she was quite a distance away, she phoned Mycroft. “You owe me big time, Mycroft……..”

\-------------------------------

When Sherlock arrived back at the hospital John was still asleep in the chair but Molly was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock roughly shook John awake, panic setting in as to where she could be.

“John! John! Where’s Molly?” Sherlock shouted. 

John woke with a start and looked around. “I-I don’t know. I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“For God’s sake John, I leave you for 5 mins to look after her while I’m down the yard with Lestrade and you can’t keep hold of her.” Sherlock took a deep breath, it was the second time today that Molly had disappeared and the second time that Sherlock’s heart seemed to beat faster and faster with worry and fear. Yes, fear, he could admit that if only to himself. 

He had been scared stiff when they had finally arrived at her flat and managed to subdue Tom before he found her. Sherlock knew exactly where she was and as he opened the door to the wardrobe, she flung herself out at him and tripped, hitting her head on the floor. John was there instantly to help her and seemed quite happy that she hadn’t done any major damage, just knocked herself out.

Mycroft suddenly appeared.

“Have you found her?” Sherlock asked. Mycroft nodded.

“I’m afraid that Miss Hooper has requested that all her belongings are taken back to her flat. Miss Hooper herself is going away for a few days and has asked that she not be contacted by anybody.” Mycroft glared solemnly at Sherlock.

“What? I don’t understand.” Sherlock growled.

“To put it simply, brother mine, the engagement’s off.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided to post chapters 5 and 6 at the same time as I don’t feel well and think I’ll probably be worse tomorrow and I wanted to post something today on the anniversary of my first fic. Hope you enjoyed the story, sorry for any typos in the last two chapters!

Three weeks later

Molly had been assured by Mary Watson that Sherlock was away on a case, when Molly finally answered one of her many missed calls and agreed to attend the small gathering to welcome the new born baby. Still, Molly was not in the least bit surprised when Sherlock then walked into the Watson’s Living Room. Molly was sat on the sofa holding baby Rosie in her arms, she looked up at him and a wave of longing swept over her as she stared at him, her mouth twisting in an effort to stop a sob from escaping. Sherlock stared back, a frown appeared on his face and Molly quickly bent her head down to the baby. 

It was the first time she had seen him since he’d rescued her and since she’d left the hospital leaving behind his engagement ring. She heard him accepting a glass of wine from Lestrade and when she looked up again, he had his back to her and was talking to Lestrade and John. Molly took the opportunity to hand over Rosie to Mrs Hudson and quietly made her way over to Mary, who was talking to some friends, to make her excuses and leave.

Molly was just finding her coat in the pile in the hallway when a shadow fell over her. She looked up and it was, of course it would be, Sherlock. Her heart missed a beat when she saw him and she gasped at the sensation. Sherlock’s brow furrowed further.

“Molly? Are you feeling unwell?” His deep, rich baritone voice sent shivers down her spine. Molly just nodded, it wasn’t a lie in a way, she was sick – lovesick. Molly turned from him as she put on her coat and was surprised when he opened the front door, motioning for her to go first. Sherlock picked his coat up as she went through the door and stepped outside with her.

“Are you going already?” Molly raised her eyebrows questioningly at him. Sherlock raised his hand as a taxi came in sight.

“I’m seeing you home as you aren’t feeling well. Isn’t that what any friend would do?” Molly didn’t even know that they were still friends, but she didn’t have much opportunity to protest as the taxi stopped and Sherlock, putting his hand on the small of her back, guided her into the cab and then got in with her.

He was sat far too close to her. His hand lay mere inches from her leg and Molly just wanted to cover his hand with her own, to feel their fingers entwining. Molly closed her eyes sharply and turned to look out the window. She could smell him as well and he smelt heavenly, a combination of his aftershave, shampoo and something that was uniquely him. Molly just wanted to get home, close the door and burrow into her bed so that she could have a good cry.

When they arrived at her flat, Molly quickly got out of the taxi and then spent ages trying to find her purse in the huge abyss that was her bag. She had just found it when she realised that Sherlock had also exited the cab, had paid the driver and was waiting outside the entrance to her flat.

“Why did you let the cab go?” Molly asked sharply. She wasn’t going to let him in, that was definite.

“Honestly Molly, where are your manners?” Sherlock chided her. “After making sure you got home safely, surely the least you can do is offer me a cup of coffee.”

“I was going to go straight to bed as I don’t feel well.” Molly explained. Sherlock smirked at her. 

“We can do that too if you want”. Molly glared at him. She hated him when he was like this, so bloody full of himself and smug with it. 

“One cup of coffee and then back to Baker Street you go, Sherlock”. Sherlock merely grinned at her and Molly opened the door and let them both in.

Sherlock took one step into her Sitting Room and stopped stock still. Molly groaned inwardly as she suddenly remembered that she had started to pack some of her belongings into boxes in readiness for the move.

Sherlock turned to her, his face suddenly serious. “Going somewhere?” He enquired.

Molly took a deep breath. “I’ve decided to move, I’m going to look for another job, nearer to Dorset where my brother lives.” 

Sherlock turned to her, for a moment she saw puzzlement on his face but then his face went back to the mocking smile she had seen earlier. He shook his head.

“Molly, what are you running away for?”

Molly’s face went red with anger. “Excuse me?” Sherlock opened his mouth but Molly interrupted him. “In fact why am I even having this conversation? I want you to go Sherlock.” Molly marched to the door and opened it. Sherlock walked up to her, gently took her hand away from the door and shut it again.

He brought his hand up to her face, gently caressing her cheek. He leaned into her and Molly thought he was going to kiss her but his mouth stopped next to her ear.

“Molly, my love. The only reason you will be moving out of this flat is to move into Baker Street with me.” His voice was low and seductive. It reminded Molly of the nights spent at the cabin, entwined together in bed where he would whisper things in her ear. Molly blushed bright red as he drew back, a small smirk on his face. “Although I quite like your flat, maybe we could live here and use Baker Street as an office and where I could do my experiments.”

“Stop it.” Molly spat, suddenly angry again. “Stop playing games with me.”

“Me?” Sherlock’s eyebrows rose, his face suddenly stern. “I’m not the one playing games, Molly. I’m not the one who disappeared from hospital leaving behind their engagement ring. Nice touch by the way leaving it in that gift bag.”

“I thought I’d spare you having to explain. You should be thanking me for giving you an easy way out.” Molly bit back.

“What do you mean? Easy way out?” Sherlock looked bewildered.

“I heard you. I was in the flat when I heard you tell John that you were making it up, all of it.” Molly’s voice cracked and a tear slid down her face. “You were only pretending to love me, to care for me because I was useful to you at Barts. Well I’m sorry Sherlock but I’m not being your puppet anymore. Now get out of my flat.”

Sherlock’s face suddenly cleared as understanding dawned.

“Ah. You overhead me talking to John. Yes, that, that would explain a lot actually.” He murmured, almost to himself. He gently reached out and touched a strand of her hair, curling it in his fingers. Molly stood stock still as he was clearly thinking over the conversation he’d had with John. 

Sherlock suddenly took a deep breath, startling her. His fingers dropped from her hair and he moved away plunking himself down on her sofa. He looked up at her and Molly was surprised to see that he looked almost embarrassed.

“John read me the riot act.” Sherlock admitted in his usual calm voice which made Molly feel oddly comforted. “He came over all ‘protective brother’ on me, actually asked me what my intentions were towards you! Can you believe it? Well you know me Molly, never give a straight answer, especially when it comes to ‘feelings’. So I told him that of course I didn’t love you, that it was all part of the case and to keep you sweet so that you would let me into the morgue and bring me body parts. I mean how could I possibly love you?” Sherlock paused for breath, glancing up at her. Molly just stood there, not quite knowing whether to burst into tears or just throw a lamp at his head.

“I suppose that must be the bit you heard, I guess you probably didn’t stay to hear the rest. Where I told John that me asking you to marry me was nothing to do with your expressive brown eyes that shine when you see me, or the way your mouth tilts up at the corners and the way your hair curls when you get caught in the rain and how soft it feels when I stroke it at night. Nothing to do with the way you laugh at my jokes or the way you seek out my hand to hold it at night or the fact that you are so beautiful my heart stutters every time I see you.”

Sherlock cleared his throat, he was staring at the floor now.

“I was going to go on but then I had a text from Mycroft asking if I’d realised that my fiancée had gone AWOL and was now in the hands of fake Moriarty.”

Molly was dumbstruck and barely heard the last part, she was still thinking about what he had said to John.

“Are you saying that you do actually love me?” She whispered finally. She moved over to Sherlock and sitting on his lap, she cradled his face in her hands and kissed him. Sherlock pulled away slightly.

“Molly, we need to talk.” 

“Not now. Sherlock I need you.” Molly started unbuttoning his shirt. It was true she did need him, needed to feel his arms around her so she could lose herself in him, to feel at one with him again.

“I know.” Sherlock murmured. Molly eyes snapped to his expecting to see his usual smirk but he looked sad and hurt. Molly instantly drew back, her foot hitting the floor to take her weight as she moved off of his lap. He didn’t love her anymore, her mouth opened in a horrified gasp as she realised he was talking about how he had been feeling, not how he felt now.

“Molly, no.” Sherlock pulled her back down onto his lap and pressed her head into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her. “Shush now. It’s ok, I-I still feel the same and I know you do too, tonight, the minute I saw you I knew you still loved me. It shines out of your eyes Molly.” He whispered comfortingly.

“But I hurt you.” Molly whimpered. 

“It was my fault, all those things I said to John, about how much I love you. I should have told you all that.” He placed his hand under her chin so that he could kiss her. And kiss her he did. It started out gentle and grew in passion as Molly put her hands around his neck to pull him closer to her.

“I think you’re right, though” Sherlock grunted as they drew apart, he gently pushed her off his lap onto the sofa. “Let’s talk later, I think right now we need to affirm our love for each other in a more um physical way.” He got up off the sofa, bent down and picked Molly up, cradling her to him he swept her into the bedroom.

\--------------------------

Sherlock lay next to Molly who was sleeping peacefully next to him, a slight smile on her face and yes, she had found his hand with hers and was clutching it tightly. Sherlock couldn’t decide if she wanted to make sure that he couldn’t leave without her knowing or if she just needed the comfort of his touch. After they’d made love she had cried and he’d held her gently, kissing her tears away and murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. She’d laughed then and they had talked and talked. It may take a while but they would get there in the end.

\------------------------------

Almost a year later

Sherlock closed the sketchbook his wife had given him for a wedding present and watched as his bride danced with John, her face beaming with joy. Mary was dancing with Greg and Mrs Hudson was holding Rosie. The dance came to an end and Molly went over to Mary, her Matron of Honour, and spoke to her quietly. Mary nodded and then they both left the room.

Molly was half way up the stairs when she heard Sherlock calling her name. She stopped and he quickly made his way to her.

“Where are you going?” 

“Just to get changed. We’ll be leaving soon, won’t we?” Molly looked a bit perplexed.

“No, no don’t get changed. You can change when we get there.” Sherlock looked almost desperate, a slight blush on his face. Mary grinning knowingly at him didn’t help.

“But I don’t want to get my dress dirty.” Molly complained.

“It won’t, I promise. I’ll carry you to the car. Please!” Sherlock begged. Molly nodded and he grinned and tugged her back down the stairs with him.

Molly looked down at her dress which was a white sheath dress with long sleeves and tiny, tiny buttons running down the back. She also had a long white coat made to match as it was the day before Christmas Eve, it was quite cold out.

Before she knew it Sherlock was making their goodbyes and as promised he picked her up and carried her to the car and settled her inside. 

“Are you going to tell me where we are going?” Molly asked, a smile lighting her face as Sherlock pouted and shook his head, his curls falling over his face. Molly put her hand out and tugged one of them, Sherlock grabbed her and kissed her.  
He was still kissing her when they were on the small plane but had to stop to drive them both to their destination, the cabin.

Molly’s eyes lit up when she saw it. The cabin and the surrounding trees were decorated with Christmas lights.

“Do you like it?” Sherlock asked hesitantly. He was worried that she would be disappointed.

“I love it!” Molly declared excitedly. Sherlock carried her into the cabin, setting her down in front of the fire. The place itself had been updated a bit, but still retained it’s original charm.

“I bought it from the owner.” Sherlock explained. “This place is special to me, Molly. This is the place where I first kissed you, held you, made love to you. I don’t want anybody to be allowed in here except us.”

“Oh, Sherlock!” Molly breathed, pulling him in for a deep kiss. The kiss grew more passionate and then Sherlock turned her round and started unbuttoning her dress. 

“The minute I saw you in this dress, I couldn’t wait to get you out of it. I itched all through the ceremony and reception to undo these buttons. Mrs Holmes, you’re lucky you got through it with your dress intact!” He growled. He unbuttoned the dress button by button and kissed the skin he exposed. Molly moaned and finally he turned her back round as the dress slipped down to her feet.

He stared at her for ages, his Molly standing in the firelight, her skin aglow. He stepped back to her and took her into his arms where she belonged

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear, Sherlock is not being very good, is he?
> 
> So the elephant in the room? That was Molly's soft toy in my first fic too.....


End file.
